Broken Promises
by Elle Mira
Summary: When Amy loses Colin, she loses herself. How the death that will forever scar the small community makes Amy wonder who she truly is without Colin.


It was one of those silences when it feels like time stops. You can't move--you're afraid to--and you can't breathe loudly because everyone will know. Everything around you is silent, still, frozen, and your head is filled to the brim with thoughts. The thoughts might be frightened ones, or angry, or desperate, but they're loud. Your thoughts and the silence surrounding you, they're both deafening.

Ephram's thoughts were thunderous, like feedback from a microphone or nails against a chalkboard. The volume and pitch that makes one wince. His head felt so crowded that it hurt, and his palms were sweaty and his heart was hammering so loudly that he thought the rest of the room _must _be able to hear it. Waves of heat passed over his body and his hands began to shake.

Words interrupted the silence that would forever scar each person in the waiting room: "I'm sorry. I . . . I couldn't save him."

And then there was a new feeling. Ephram's heart had dropped, long, far, and heavy, to his feet. Sweat began to collect on his brow. Time had proceeded, had lurched forward again. It now had left him behind, because he just stood there stupidly, confused. There was a mistake, there had to be.

Colin wasn't dead, Colin couldn't be dead.

Around him, everyone was a blur. Crying and yelling and hugging and sobbing. Doctor Brown stood in the middle of it all, watching with guilt what he had created.

Ephram shook his head, although he didn't notice it. He felt more attached to his poor father now, than he had ever been. 

He turned his head, and there was Amy, still standing, eyes scanning, looking for the catch. Their eyes locked, and they both agreed silently: _No, this can't be it. Colin can't be dead. Colin isn't dead._

But Andy's guilt continued to consume his features and Colin's relatives and friends continued to weep in despair. Even Bright, now, was tearing up. 

That was probably the trigger that sent Amy into desperation: one look at her usually-unemotional brother's face and she knew something was truly wrong. She quitted her denial, and she accepted what had happened. And began to cry hysterically.

Ephram wished that he could offer her his shoulder to cry on, but he knew her too well. He knew she would refuse it. So he went to his father, looked deep into dark, grim eyes, and embraced the rigid man. The hug was unsure and timid, but gradually both father and son gained confidence and let their emotions carry them.

The car ride home was mostly silent, until they reached the sign that read, _You are now entering Everwood, Colorado._ It was then that Ephram realized that they were trapped. That in this small town, where news and gossip spread so rapidly, his entire family would never feel welcome again. He turned and looked at his father. 

"You did your best," he managed gruffly, in a low, emotional voice.

Andy shook his head, his eyes still focused on the dark road. "No, Ephram. I ruined it. I ruined this fresh start we were going to make here. This town . . . they'll never accept us now."

Ephram shifted a little, startled, for it was as though his father had read his previous thoughts. In hopes of comforting the man, he continued, "No. There was nothing you could do. It was what it was. It was meant to be."

Dr. Brown cocked his head to the side ever-so-slightly and asked, "You really think that?" When Ephram nodded in response, he smiled and murmured quietly, "You're like your mother that way. Passionate."

Ephram smiled.

***

Morning dawned on Everwood slowly and quietly, like a snake sneaking up on its prey. Because indeed, only havoc and panic could come with daybreak that day after Colin Hart's surgery and death. In the Brown household, Ephram was up and about, mentally preparing himself for the hurt that would soon meet his family. His father was upstairs asleep, as was Delia, who had heard the dreadful news the night before but did not truly comprehend the significance of the outcome. 

In the Abbott home, things were unusually quiet. Normally, Bright and Amy would be bickering, Harold would be complaining about something, and Rose would be trying to manage all of it, but now, there was only deadly silence. 

It was already ten o'clock in the morning, but Amy was still in bed. Her eyes hurt because all night she had been trying to keep them closed and trying to force herself to sleep, without any success. Now, she finally gave in, and opened them.

Sunlight was streaming through her window, and it appeared to be quite a beautiful day outside. She thought it to be almost blasphemous for it to be so cheerful outside on a day like this.

She sighed, got up, and went to her mirror, immediately horrified at the sight. Dark circles clung underneath her eyes like shadows that were not in proportion. Her hair was completely disheveled, which owed to her tossing and turning all night. There were dried tears on her cheeks: taunting, itchy, dead tears. 

Staring into her own brown eyes, she repeated in her head over and over again: _Colin is dead. Colin is dead. Colin is dead. _Soon, her fierce eyes swam with tears.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Her brother stood at her door, managing to give her a half-smile. He, also, was not dressed, in his pajamas.

"Can I come in, Ame?"

Blinking away tears, she said, "Um . . . yeah. Sure, yeah."

He sat on her bed, and she joined him. After an awkward moment of silence, Bright said, "Um . . . so, there's this party tonight at Michael McAlpine's house. I think you should go."

Amy sighed. "Bright, not a day after . . . not the day after . . . you know."

"You need to lose some stress, Amy. A party will help you do that."

"Will you be there?" she asked timidly.

Bright shook his head. "No. I'm going away to basketball camp, and I have to pack."

Amy paused, speechless, for a moment. Then she stammered, "But-but Bright! You never said you were going to camp!"

Bright seemed confused at her concern. "I decided I needed to get away, Amy. What's the matter?"

It was easy to tell that Amy was trying hard to repress and control her feelings. She finally got out, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go ahead. Go to camp. And you're right, Bright, okay? You're right. I shouldn't be stuck on this forever. I'll go to that party tonight."

Bright smirked. "Great." He tossed her one last hopeful look, and left the room

To be continued. . . . 

[A/N: No, you're not dreaming . . . Elle is writing a non-one-shot! Alert the media!

This fic is mostly intended for a little Amy-exploration, because I've heard that she we might see a bit of her bad side (via alcohol) this season. THIS MIGHT NOT BE TRUE. Just something I heard. But I decided to try it out.

I'm going up to the lake with my friend for a week, computerless. I'll have to write the old-fashioned way. Expect an update by next Friday. Review. That's all. ;) ]


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